Guardian Angels

Chapter 38

The godfather's brewery, a place shrouded in shadows and whispered fears, became the stage for a cruel and sinister spectacle. The place, infamous among the underworld for its dual purpose of producing moonshine and making problems disappear, stood as a sinister monument to the godfather's reign over Angel City. Within its walls, Izzy Diaz found herself trapped in a nightmare, her head the only part of her not confined within a cold, dark barrel. The godfather, Giorgio Maloni, circled her like a menacing predator, relishing the power he wielded.

With a harsh, sudden movement, he slapped Izzy across the face, his voice laced with venom. "You thought you could stand against me? Call upon the city to rise up?" He sneered, his eyes cold and calculating. "I showed you mercy once, Izzy Diaz. But you've thrown that mercy back in my face. Now, I'm afraid it's time to retract it."

The godfather gestured towards the line of sealed barrels against the wall, each one a silent testament to the fate of those who had dared to defy him in the past. The implication was clear and terrifying: Izzy could easily become just another silent witness to the godfather's ruthlessness.

He leaned closer, his words dripping with malice. "You know, I didn't expect Alex Mason to play the hero, blocking a shot for Clara Mitchell. I always thought him a cold-blooded killer. But it seems even he has a soft spot," he mused, grabbing Izzy's chin and twisting Izzy's face towards him.

"For Alex Mason," he repeated mockingly, his gaze fixed on Izzy's defiant yet fearful eyes. "You were so beautiful, calling out to him, dedicating your song. It's clear even he couldn't resist your charm. But the real question, Izzy," he paused, a cruel smile playing on his lips, "is whether he'll come for you. Will he dare to face me to save you, or will he leave you to your fate?"

Maloni's words, dripping with cruelty and mockery, hung heavy in the air. His misunderstanding of Alex Mason's identity, his belief that Alex was a man bewitched by Izzy's beauty, only added a layer of irony to the perilous situation. As Izzy listened, her heart raced with fear, but also with hope. She knew the truth that the godfather did not: Alex Mason was not just a vigilante or a hero from the shadows but a person who loved her deeply, who would stop at nothing to save her. In the darkest moment, Izzy held onto the belief that love, resilience, and courage would triumph over the godfather's reign of terror.

As the godfather and his men continued their torment of Izzy, Alex Mason, known only to those in the room as the unyielding vigilante, stepped in. The godfather's men quickly aimed their weapons at him, but he stopped in front of the godfather with no weapon on his hands. The tension in the brewery was palpable, a silent storm brewing in the moments before the inevitable clash.

Surprisingly, Alex did not attack, but made a gesture of stark surrender. "Let her go, one life for another," Alex declared, his voice steady despite the dangerous gambit he was playing. Izzy's cry of "no" cut through the tension, a desperate plea against the sacrifice Alex was willing to make.

Maloni's smile widened, a cruel glee lit up his features. "So, the great Alex Mason, here at last and so willing to play the martyr. I didn't expect you to show up so easily," he taunted, gesturing for Alex to hand over his weapon.

With a calm that belied the storm inside him, Alex stepped forward, surrendering his iconic revolver to the godfather. Izzy's voice broke through the tension, her plea laced with fear and love. "No, don't do this!"

Maloni, intrigued and amused by the turn of events, couldn't conceal his malicious satisfaction. "Are you really that captivated by her? Fascinating." His eyes gleamed with anticipation as he selected the most conspicuous round from Alex's bandolier—an incendiary round, emblematic of Mason's reputation for fiery retribution.

Loading the round into the revolver, Maloni initiated his twisted game of Russian roulette, a macabre display of his idea of mercy. "Your love story has touched me," he rotated the cylinder randomly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "So, I'll offer you a chance. Fate will decide which one of you gets to live."